


What of Dreams?

by lollercakes



Series: It's All in Your Head [4]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams, Dry Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: Anne is frustrated. Gilbert has had a drink or two. Somehow they find each other and find a way back. A post-failed-proposal fallout.





	1. Chapter 1

She was still angry. Hurting, bitter, lonely, but most of all furious. How could he have proposed like that? He should have known that she didn’t feel that way. Why didn’t he see it? They were friends. Surely, good friends who thwarted propriety and the regular rules of engagement, but still, that was all they had ever been and ever would be. He didn’t need to ruin it with a proposal. Right? 

 

With her boot scuffing along the rocky path, Anne stomps through the wooded grove on another aimless walk to air out the thoughts warring in her mind. It had been a week since Gilbert had asked for her hand in marriage and she had turned him away, sealing the fate on them moving along two separate paths that were once so tightly intertwined. 

 

The distance that had come between them with his fateful words - “ _ Your friendship can't satisfy me, Anne. _ ” - had opened a hole in her heart that ached still with every hour she was awake. She tried, desperately, to get lost in the imagination she once sheltered herself with but it was useless. He was there too, a void that hadn’t existed before but now shadowed every thought with a bluish tinge. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Gilbert existed everywhere that she’d let him and now he roamed within her mind unbound, like a bull in a china shop. 

 

“Fiddlesticks!” Anne hisses, her hands twisting as inside she screams in frustration. Why could she not rid herself of thoughts of him? “You must learn to separate yourself,” she mumbles once more as her pace quickens. It was getting darker with every minute, the cool evening air swirling around and tingeing her cheeks pink. 

 

Home. She would have to head for home or else she would catch a cold and likely give up everything on this forest floor. A voice in the back of her head echoed what a lovely death that could be and she groaned, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. “Go home, Anne,” she mumbles, just loud enough to herself. 

 

“Yes - go home Anne-girl,” a familiar voice calls out, gruff around the edges and slurring the words together. Her blood runs cold as she whips around behind her, a shadowed figure coming up behind her. 

 

Stumbling, she clatters into a tree and grips the trunk until her breathing can steady. With careful movements, Anne opens her eyes to see the dim outline of Gilbert Blythe, his shoulders hunched and a bottle in his hand. “Are you  _ drunk _ ?” She seizes, eyes wide. 

 

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he laughs and stumbles, his too-tall frame filling her line of sight. Her stomach rolling as he trips and drops the bottle, words unfit for speaking spilling from his lips. Who is this boy? This is not the Gilbert she has known since she was a girl. 

 

Had she broken him, like he’d broken her? 

 

On his knees before her she comes out of her dazed surprise and watches as his hands pat the underbrush searching for his lost drink. A part of her thinks she should leave him here, walk away and rid herself of this man who had not a few days before set her on this tailspin of fevered thoughts. But that part is silenced by the ache in her heart and the worry she has for leaving him alone among the trees as the temperature dips lower. 

 

“Gilbert, let’s get you home,” she urges, stepping towards him and reaching for his shoulders. His head snaps up at the contact and his eyes, too dark to see in the night, feel like they can see right through her. 

 

“I can get home just alright,” he replies, shrugging her touch away and returning to his search. She sighs and kicks the bottle away, crouching down and tucking her skirts around her so that she can see his face. 

 

“Let me take you there, Gil, otherwise I’ll worry all night that the faeries have taken you away from me.” Anne’s voice is soft, belying the hurt that swirls inside of her. If this were any other soul she would walk away and wish them well. But it wasn’t. “Come now, let’s go,” she says and reaches for his hand. 

 

His palm finds hers and a shock moves up her arm like a missing piece has just been returned to her once more. It flares a pain in her chest that she tries to ignore, breathing deeply as they struggle to stand together. 

 

“You don’t have to - “ Gilbert mutters, solemn. 

 

“Yes, I do. You’re not too far from home. Let’s just take it slowly,” she rambles as they walk slowly through the underbrush. She says a small prayer for her familiarity among these trees as they break through towards a boarding house that stands dimly lit before them. Where normally the house was bright with occupants as dusk rolled in, now it looked almost foreboding as they trudged towards the front stoop. Anne tried not to notice. 

 

When eventually they reach the door Gilbert’s hands shake as he fumbles through his keys. After three failed attempts at disengaging the lock, Anne places her hand softly over his and looks up at his shadowed expression, a small smile on her lips. “Let me try,” she whispers. 

 

Her hands work deftly and soon they were standing in the cool lobby of the house, the hearthfires low and the gas lamps off creating a darkened entryway.  _ There wasn’t a soul alive in here _ , she thought to herself as Gilbert leaned heavily against her. The plan to drop him off to his keepers was thwarted and she internally groaned, glancing up at his drooping eyelids and unsteady frame. 

 

“Which room is yours, Gil?” She hisses, her hand clinging tighter to his hip as his knees begin to buckle. Clearly her time is limited for keeping him upright, she recognizes as she steers him towards the stairs. 

 

“It isn’t right,” he slurs, attempting to pull away and stumbling into the arm rail. “You can’t - you shouldn’t - “

 

“You need to be in bed to sleep this off. I can’t just leave you here!” Anne scolds and taps his cheek haughtily. His eyes snap open at the contact, blazing in the low light. “Help me,” she instructs and lifts his arm to wrap around her shoulders. 

 

They make their way up the stairs slowly, cresting the top step and pausing to lean against the wall as Anne looks wearily down the hallway. She shouldn’t be here - it wasn’t proper - but Gilbert was her friend and he needed someone to look after him now. 

 

“Second room,” he grumbles as she pulls him away from where he’s holding up the wall. 

 

The room is wide, sparse, and scattered around the clean floors are papers and a tipped over bottle, a puddle of liquid spilling out onto the pages. “Gil,” she whispers, glancing at him out of the side of her eyes. 

 

His head rolls on his shoulders, his body lurching away from her and twisting its way towards the bed. She feels the loss of his body heat like a bucket of cold water, a shiver climbing up her spine as she takes glances down at the mess. Her handwriting is sprawled across the floor, notes and pieces of her stories like a haunting reminder of how fragmented she feels inside. 

 

Glancing over towards the bed, she sees him kneeling on the wood floor, his head resting against the bedpost as his shoulders rise and fall swiftly. The hurt radiates off of him and she steels herself against it, busying her hands with picking up the mess and seeking out the kitchen to ready some water. After two trips she returns with a wash basin and a cup of tea, a familiar care package for what Marilla always brought to her when she was feeling ill. 

 

“Gil,” she says from the desk, watching as he turns to face her. Her mouth dries as he looks at her, eyes dark in the low light. “I’ve readied some water.” 

 

Gilbert moves slowly to his feet, a steadiness newly acquired as he looks down at her. There’s a silence then that spans between them, her heart thundering loud enough that surely he must hear it as he stalks ever closer. When finally,  _ finally _ , he’s by her side she exhales the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and lifts the washcloth to his face. His hand wraps around hers then and she jumps, her arms flailing as she trips and stumbles. 

 

It happens slowly, almost comically, as Gilbert reaches out and knocks the basin over in his haste to help her, the water spilling across her dress as they tumble together onto the floor. Shock ripples through them and soon they’re laughing, heartily, loudly, as the situation unfolds. In another breath Anne comes back to herself, surprise fleeting as she feels his body pressed against hers. 

 

“Gilbert,” she breathes, a hand moving to press against his chest. He pauses and looks around himself, scrambling away as though he was on fire. She could almost believe it with the way her skin burned at his touch. 

 

“I’m sorry - dear Anne, I’m so sorry,” he gasps, rubbing his hands roughly against his face. She sits up at the anguish she sees there, her fingers gentle at pulling his hands away. 

 

“We’re alright,” she counters, careful to keep a distance as his expression crumbles. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

 

They’re silent as she leads him to the mattress, her hands steady as she helps him remove his boots and socks. He strips from his jacket and suspenders, discarding them on the floor as she places his keys and wallet on the side table. Pausing at the doorway she looks down at him, wishing she could figure out what was roaring between his ears. 

 

“Must you go?” He asks quietly after a moment, his shoulders hunched and his gaze turned towards the window. The debate lights inside her and she runs her hands anxiously over the wet linen of her dress. 

 

“I can’t sleep in wet clothes, I’ll catch my death,” she replies lowly, her chest tightening at the words she’s not saying.  _ I should go home. I should not be alone with you in your bedroom. I can’t stay.  I don’t want to go.  _

 

“Please,” he gasps at her hesitation, the sound escaping from him like a wild beast finally set free. Her resolve cracks and she closes her eyes, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. 

 

It isn’t proper to be here but she doesn’t care. She’d turned down his proposal and it had destroyed him. At the click of the door she realizes that it had destroyed her too and all her anger, her pain that she had felt only an hour ago was because she shouldn’t have said no. 

 

“I’ll stay until you’re asleep,” she resolves, stepping towards the bed carefully as he moves to lean his back against the headboard. Her body perches itself on the edge near his feet, stiffly watching as his eyes lock on hers. 

 

“There’s a sweater in my closet that should reach to your knees,” he mumbles after a drawn out silence, uncertainty hanging between them. For a moment she considers that too forward, too improper, but the gooseflesh on her arms reminds her of the chill that has set in from her wet gown. 

 

Retrieving the woolen garment, she pulls it tightly around her shoulders and turns towards the window. The street below is nearly empty, the gas lamps flicking in the breeze and creating pools of light. It feels lonely and desolate and when she looks back at the boy in his bed her heart breaks. 

 

“I’m sorry I said what I did,” she whispers, barely audible. Finding herself drawn to his side she sits down once more on the mattress, her fingers brushing across his brow. 

 

“So am I,” he replies with closed eyes. His fingers slip against hers, tangling in them and drawing them to his chest. She can feel the beat of his heart, slow and patient, as he opens his eyes to look up at her. “Will you tell me a story?” 

 

Tears spring to her eyes and she has to blink them away, her breath catching as she nods. A moment later she’s leaning back beside him, boots discarded and her eyes closing as she starts spinning a tale of a handsome prince. With words running in circles, she speaks until his breathing evens out and his head rests against her shoulder. Somehow while she was lost in her imagination, he’d curled his body to her side and wrapped his arm around her hip possessively, his fingers twisting into the skirts at her side. 

 

She debates getting up then. Thinks about doing what she knew she should - pulling away and leaving him to sleep it off - but her heart remains at war with her mind and instead of doing what she should, she does what she needs. 

 

Slowly, gently, Anne eases them down until they are laying with their heads on his pillow, her arms tucked into her chest to provide some semblance of space between them. With the blanket drawn up around their necks and Gilbert’s sweater wrapped tightly over her shoulders, she closes her eyes and tries not to think about tomorrow and the reality that will come crashing down around them. 

 

_ I never should have said no _ , she thinks as she drifts off. 

 

Inside their dreams the world melts away and they find one another, two souls wandering a meadow in the afternoon sunlight. A fog lifts from the grass as they link hands, the flowers around them leaning up towards the sun and catching at their heels. Gilbert’s hands lift to her cheeks, his thumbs soothing over the delicate bones there. 

 

“You are my match, my equal, my kindred spirit,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her brow. Her pulse skitters and her stomach swoops, her body leaning into him until she looks up and finds him smiling down at her. His lips capture hers and at first they’re tentative, careful, before he pulls back. “I never wish to leave you,” he sighs and her chest aches with it. 

 

“I won’t,” she promises in return, snaring her fingers in the fabric of his shirt and lifting her lips once more to his. He smiles against her, his fingers drifting into her hair and tangling there to pull her closer. 

 

She lifts and opens as his tongue slips against the seam of her lips and begs entry. A growl escapes his chest and he slides an arm down to wrap around her waist, holding her flush against him. His lithe frame is strong and she drowns in the scent of him, moaning as he drags them to their knees and shifts her onto her back in a heady moment of surprise. 

 

“Anne-girl,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose dragging along her neck as he trails breathy kisses towards her lace collar. “You’ve no idea,” Gilbert continues as his hands press marks into her hips, his body held aloft by mere inches. She longs to feel the whole of him against her and with a squeak of effort she brings him down on her, his body settling into her embrace. 

 

“I’ve some,” she counters, a cheeky smile accompanying a quick breath and a throaty laugh. Gilbert makes an indiscernible noise, his warmth enveloping them as he returns his lips to the place below her ear that causes her to make a sound relegated to his dreams. 

 

There’s no more talking after that. He presses against her, his hips rutting between her legs that spurs on a friction that makes her shiver and moan. With his hands roaming her sides, her hips, her chest, she skims her fingers through his curls and drags his lips back to hers. It’s blissful to get lost in him as the forest around them shimmers, her dream so real that when she wakes she doesn’t protest the body behind her or the hands tangled up in her sweater. 

 

It’s only when the breath on her neck becomes erratic that her eyes snap open, her body on fire with want as a warm hand slips across her breast. She realizes then where she is. What she’s doing. Who the body behind her belongs to.

 

“Anne,” he moans into her ear, his body,  _ all of it _ , pressed against her backside. Gilbert’s hand squeezes roughly at her breast through her camisole, her mind both raging and thankful that she left her corset at home for her afternoon walk. 

 

She didn’t know quite what to do now that she was here. To wake him would cause him endless embarrassment that may drive them further apart. To stop would leave her empty, her body already inclined to jump off the cliff her dream and this reality had driven her to. To continue… To continue would be improper. 

 

_ But being here at all is already scandalous _ , her mind chided. 

 

“Oh Anne-girl,” Gilbert sighs as his body shifts, his breathing quickening. Her body chose for her then, pressing back against him as his hand pulls her hips towards him, her own hand slipping down to press between her legs as she cries out with want. 

 

The sound from her lips breaks the spell that hovers around them, their bodies each tightening as their releases sweep through them. She can feel in the breath after the ringing in her ears subsides that his grip has become uncertain, his own breathing stopped as though being held. Closing her eyes defensively, Anne holds the tension in her body and tries not to shiver when he draws back and sits up. 

 

Cold air surrounds her as he shifts to the edge of the bed, his hands careful to bring the blanket up around her without daring touch her. From where she lay frozen in his bed she listens as he swears and gets to his feet. She can practically feel his gaze burning into her back before he turns and steps quickly towards the door. He’s almost there when she sits up abruptly, spoiling his escape. 

 

“Gil,” she breathes, his terrified eyes finding hers in the dark. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Anne, so very sorry,” he apologizes quickly, his expression crumbling. The reaction sobers her and she shakes her head, reaching a hand out to him. 

 

“It’s okay,” she absolves, watching him with her emotions plain on her face. “Come back, Gil. Please.” He presses his thumbs into his eyes and shakes his head, unable to meet her gaze with his own. 

 

“What I did - it’s - it’s unforgivable. You are not mine. You are not - ” 

 

“But I am,” she interrupts quietly, her hand coming to rest against her chest. “I am yours. I’ve been so angry. Not at you, but at myself. I should have said yes, Gil, I was foolish to deny you.” 

 

He chokes and shakes his head. “Don’t say what you don’t mean. I beg you.” 

 

Slowly, Anne lifts herself from the bed and steps toe to toe with him, opening her arms and inviting him to her. He closes his eyes and steps into her embrace, his hands at first hesitant but then twisting themselves tightly into her skirts and holding her to him. 

 

“I didn’t mean to - I was dreaming and I just - “ 

 

“I know. I was having the same dream,” she whispers as she looks up at him, searching. He looks down at her, his cheeks reddened but a small smile playing at his lips. 

 

“The same one?” She nods and lets her fingers slip along his jaw, her thumb boldly tracing across his lip. There’s a hesitation as she looks up at him, waiting for his next move and smiling widely as he takes the hint and leans in for a breathless kiss. 

 

When they eventually pull apart it’s to soft laughter and heavy breaths, Anne’s tongue darting out to capture taste of him on her lips. “I thought my imagination had made up how good you were at that,” she admits aloud. 

 

“It wasn’t just me then?” He confides with a smile, his fingers tangling lightly in her hair. “I need to - “ he pauses, awkwardly stepping away as he swallows thickly. “Don’t move, please?” 

 

She watches him escape back into the hallway, her fingers tracing along her lips as she hears the water run. When he returns a few moments later he’s in different pants, his expression sheepish and his gaze averted until she captures his chin between her fingers and lifts a brow in question. 

 

“I needed to - uh - change. Sorry - I didn’t - “ She smiles and shakes her head, halting his explanation. 

 

“It’s alright, Gil. Would you mind if we just went back to sleeping now? I’m a bit worn out and we do have class in the morning,” she says with a lilt, shifting the conversation back onto steady ground as she moves back towards the bed. 

 

Together they slip under the covers and lay facing one another, their hands entwined and their noses mere centimetres apart. 

 

“Did you mean it? That you should have said yes?” He asks quietly, his brow furrowed as though preparing himself for the worst. Instead she scoots closer, her hand coming to rest over his heart. 

 

“I meant it. If you’ll ask again, I should be so inclined.”

 

“Anne - You are my match, my equal, my kindred spirit… Will you - “ 

 

“Yes. Yes one thousand times. Again and again, yes.” She feels as though she’ll burst as his eyes open, his hands pulling her to his kiss and her breathing catching as her body sings. 

 

She pinches herself later to be sure it isn’t a dream, marvelling in the way her spirit soars with the understanding that Gilbert’s arms around her are real and that forever and always they will be hers. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Gilbert, come on, we’re leaving!” Michael calls from the entryway to the boarding house, his voice ricocheting off of the wood panelling of the staircase. Gilbert finishes buttoning his shirt and sighs, a palm rubbing against his brow as he catches sight of himself in his mirror. Behind him his door handle shakes, one of the boys trying to get into his room and drag him out. 

 

“I’m almost ready,” he grumbles distractedly, ignoring the scattering of papers across his floor as he grabs his jacket from the bed. Slipping through a small crack, he pulls on a joyous mask and closes his door with a snap. 

 

The boys in the house had been on him for days to get out of his room after his failed proposal to Anne, their keen awareness of the misery he’d been wallowing in turning their efforts into overdrive. Tonight was the night that they won out and Gilbert agreed - albeit reluctantly - to come out on the town with them. 

 

Though they knew enough to know that he hadn’t gotten the answer that he wanted, none of the group seemed to know the extent of his disappointment, nor of the sheer overwhelming loneliness that he felt in saying goodbye to his best friend. It had been like ripping a part of himself loose, letting it drop into a river’s current and run away never to be returned. He’d spent the better part of the week hiding out whenever he wasn’t in class, reading through old notes they’d written and stories Anne had penned trying to find the place where it proved she didn’t, in fact, love him. 

 

How could he have been so wrong? They’d been nearly inseparable, thick as thieves for the last few years. How could she not love him as he loved her? 

 

His chest ached as he descended the staircase, following the rowdy bunch out into the streets and the clear night air. They paid him no mind as he trudged along behind them, heading down the street to the local pub where they were set to have dinner and hopefully ease his troubled burdens. 

 

It was a few hours later when he stumbled out of the pub, a beer in hand and a spinning in his head that he couldn’t shake. He’d tried to eat, had picked away at a shepards pie that had been placed before him, but he’d barely been able to stomach anything but the cool beers that were served endlessly to the table. The drink hadn’t taken long to fog his mind, turning his thoughts sour as he mumbled about what could have been. 

 

With uncertain steps, Gilbert headed down the sidewalk and into the grove of trees that snaked through the town, desperate to find a place that didn’t remind him of  _ her _ . It was a foolish attempt at escaping something that was trapped inside of him. 

 

Every tree, every branch and low bush, brought him back to Avonlea and the place that they used to run away to to be alone. The pain of his memories grew paramount as he walked on, his mind replaying the scene of his rejection over and over again. 

 

_ “Anne,” he said with a half-smile, nerves plucking at his stomach. “There is something I want to say to you.”  _

 

The memory morphs and spins, her dismissal fresh as he recalls the way she’d withdrawn from him. The way she’d recoiled. 

 

_ "Oh, Gilbert -- you -- you've spoiled everything." _

 

He sniffed and swallowed down more of his drink, knees collapsing as he slipped down to rest his back against a tree. Though the forest was peaceful, he was unable to breathe for the pain that rattled his bones and brought fresh tears to his eyes. 

 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he mumbles to himself, his head resting against his drawn up knees. Anne had turned away his hand in marriage and told him that she would never love him the way he loved her. She hadn’t even resolved to give him a promise that it was possible and that fact had sobered him more than anything else. 

 

If she couldn’t love him, what was he to do? She was everything that he’d ever wanted, wrapped in a package full of imagination and dreams. To walk away after that had pained him like nothing ever had before and he couldn’t shake it. 

 

“Fiddlesticks!” Anne’s voice breaks through his tangled thoughts and for a moment he thinks he imagines it, getting slowly to his feet and looking around him. Off in the distance he sees her, slinking between the shadows with her tell-tale red hair lit in the dimming light. “Go home, Anne,” she instructs herself and it seems almost fitting that he’s come upon her now. 

 

“Yes - go home, Anne-girl,” he grumbles bitterly and slinks towards her. His thoughts slip in and out, his body shaking as she steps closer to him. They’re conversing somehow, though it makes little sense to him as she leads him through the forested path and back out onto the road. 

 

When he finally connects what’s happening it’s almost too late, her tiny frame supporting his as they move through the boarding house together. The feel of her so close to him causes his skin to burn and his breath to catch, his mind spinning out of control as she opens his bedroom door. Beyond it he feels her tense up, her eyes falling on the notes he’d been pouring over for days - the same ones he’d tried so hard to hide from the others in the house.

 

It was too late now to hide it and so he doesn’t bother, choosing instead to put some distance between them so that maybe she’ll leave him in peace. And he thinks it works. She leaves and he finally exhales, his shoulders relaxing until the grief starts to flood back in. When Anne comes back through the door, a wash basin and a cup of tea in hand he nearly starts to cry. 

 

But he pulls himself together and moves to join her, clarity and steadiness filling him as he looks her over. She looks unrested, darkened lines under her eyes and her hair is slightly askew, though that could be from when she dragged him home not long ago. He wasn’t sure and he knew then that it didn’t matter. She was taking care of him and he was grateful. Thankful for any small mercy she bestowed on him. 

 

God, he was lost looking in her eyes. At least that’s what he’d say if he ever had to defend how he ended up on top of her, their bodies splayed across the floor as ripples of laughter echoed around them. It felt like home to be near her and when he eventually felt her hand on his chest and heard her small voice say his name -  _ “Gilbert,” _ \- he scrambled to put some space between them lest she feel like he was forcing her into something he couldn’t take back. 

 

With his hands on his face and fear and anguish filling him, he clings to some semblance of strength as she leads him to his mattress and helps settle him for the night. He wishes he could say something to clear the air, to return them to the easy banter they once had, but nothing comes to mind. When she eventually moves to leave he feels panic under his skin and he gives in to his warring thoughts. 

 

“Must you go?” It crackles out of him and he watches her expression shimmer, her eyes softening as she mumbles a response. The  _ please _ slips from his lips before he can stop it and she shakes her head, for a moment convincing him that she’ll be gone forever. 

 

But she stays. She tells him a story and brushes her fingers across his brow, soothes him into sleep as his thoughts start to sober. It feels right to rest against her shoulder, to tangle his fingers in her dress as she breathes steadily next to him. He belongs here, with her, and as he drifts into his dreams he convinces himself that he’s home. 

 

The thoughts that conjure as he sleeps as vibrant and bright, a glowing edge around them as he kneels above her in a wide meadow. The kiss he presses to her chin, then up to her ear makes her nails pinch into his arms. 

 

“Gil,” she breathes, her tongue darting out to snake across her lips. He follows the invitation and dives for her, sinking his body to the ground and covering her with his larger frame. Below him she writhes and moans as his kiss deepens, his senses hot and sparking as his lips trail marks down her chest. 

 

“It’s you,” he whispers as his hand slides to cup her thigh, his taunt body pressing between her opened legs. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she nips at his ear, murmuring sweet words that urge him on. 

 

With her skirts sprawled around them he drives his lips to every inch of exposed skin, kissing and nipping at spots that make her hips rise to meet his. He’s so wrapped up in her, the scent, the feel, that his body curls into her and spurs, his breathing catching as his lips return to her mouth. She moans into him as her hands hold him against her, her own breaths erratic as he shivers and drags a hand to her chest, cupping her breast and revelling in the feel of it. 

 

His release builds as the heat surrounds them, his throat releasing an soft groan as she whimpers and shifts her backside against him. “Oh, Anne-girl,” he moans into her neck at the contact. The move steals his breath and he shatters, his hips jutting against her in a mind-bending release. When her voice cries out, breathy and sweet, his eyes snap open with the realization of what had just happened. 

 

They were no longer in the field. His body was not cradled by hers and she was  _ not _ embracing him like he’d dreamed. He’d used her as a rubbing post, his actions no better than a wild thing humping at any warm body. 

 

He had behaved irreparably, tarnishing her as he’d selfishly sought release. His drunken antics had made him foolish, embarrassed, and had made her suffer for his action. He couldn’t forgive himself this. 

 

Pulling away, he is careful to withdraw so as not to wake her. His hands shake as he moves the blanket over her shoulders and he forces himself to his feet. He needs to change. To get away from here so that he can pretend this never happened. If she knew what he’d done she would never forgive him and he could never - 

 

“Gil,” her voice breaks into his rushing thoughts and his stomach dips. His apologies spill from his lips as he holds himself stock-still, uncomfortable and full of anguish as their words fill the quietness of the house. “But I am. I am yours. I’ve been so angry. Not at you, but at myself. I should have said yes, Gil, I was foolish to deny you.” 

 

Her unsteady words are like a balm and he exhales, his eyes pleading as he looks down at her. He couldn’t stand for her to say things she didn’t believe - not after everything.  “Don’t say what you don’t mean. I beg you.”

 

She comes to stand before him, her sweet smell slipping through his senses and trapping him near her. He longs to touch her - to feel her pressed against him - and when she opens her arms wide he steps into them like he’s finally come home. 

 

Eventually they settle back into the small bed, his clothing exchanged and his thoughts hopeful as she curls her body close to his. “Did you mean it? That you should have said yes?” He asks after a drawn silence, the question on his mind tumbling out of him. 

 

“I meant it. If you’ll ask again, I should be so inclined,” she replies quietly, her voice smiling as her eyes shimmer in the low light. 

 

“Anne - You are my match, my equal, my kindred spirit… Will you - “ He isn’t given the space to finish, her pronouncements urgent and forceful as she pulls him ever closer and accepts him the way he had expected her to only days ago. 

 

He can’t deny then that he loved this girl, her madness and abandon only adding to her allure. He should known not to give up, not to get so lost in his own misery. She would come around eventually and all her fire, all her passion, would finally align like fate had meant it to all along. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For AdelphaHighbrow, who may or may not enjoy this simple response...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the morning after...

Everything hurt. Everything except maybe his heart - that he wasn’t sure of. 

 

The night had been an odyssey, to say the least, and he couldn’t help but worry that all of the things that were making him hopeful for the morning were just figments of his imagination. But there was one thing he couldn’t deny against all doubts and that was the fact that despite the debate on what was real and what was not, there was still a very warm little body tucked up against his with a nose pressed just below his chin and a hand tangled under the edge of his shirt. 

 

Had it all been real? Had he actually stumbled into Anne in the grove and ended up convincing her not to give up on him? To see if this thing they had between them actually had legs? 

 

God, he hoped that had all been true because the feel of her leg draped over his was making it harder with every second to go back to the way things were this past week. 

 

“Gilbert, are you alive in there?” Michael grumbled through the door, causing his eyes to snap open and the bliss of the moment to dissipate in an instant. Next to him the tiny redhead stirred, her breathing catching and her nails scraping along his hip in a way that made his body sing. 

 

He didn’t want to disturb her but with his eyes now open and the bright sunlight pouring through his window it was akin to sensory overload and he had to roll away, stumbling off the bed in an abrupt haste to get the the discarded wash basin from the night before. Retching into the dish, Gilbert groaned as the door started to open. 

 

With a shout and a lurch towards the frame, he slammed a hand on the heavy wood and crumbled in front of it. The cool flooring felt soothing against his cheek and above him he could hear the sounds of confusion in the hallway, his fellow boarders lobbing questions at him through the keyhole. 

 

“Come on man, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. Let us come in and get you sorted before you choke on your own puke,” Michael said between chuckles, rattling the handle. 

 

“Go away,” Gilbert shouted before forcing himself upright. When his vision finally caught up with his body he caught sight of Anne sitting straight up, her hair askew and her eyes wide as she looked around her. 

 

“I’m going to go have breakfast. If you’re not downstairs in thirty minutes I’m breaking through this doorway, you hear me?” 

 

“Yes - just leave me in peace, for God’s sake.” He heard the footsteps echo as they retreated down the hallway, the threat of being discovered lessening with every creaking floorboard. 

 

“I should have left last night!” Anne rasped, her voice thick with sleep. He couldn’t help but think it was the most attractive thing he’d ever heard. “They’re going to find me up here and I’ll be ruined! Gilbert, how could I let this happen?” 

 

Her voiced raised an octave as she stood up quickly, padding across the floor with her hands flung out above her. He tried to focus on her movements but his vision blurred and he had to close his eyes, willing the spinning to stop so that he could just  _ think _ . 

 

“I’ll be kicked out of school. Marilla will call me home. I’ll never get a teaching job and I’ll forever be judged and held - “ 

 

“ _ Anne _ ,” he interrupted, one hand covering his eyes and the other extended out towards her. She looked at it as it beckoned her, his long fingers grasping the air between them until she came closer. When he could feel her skirts against his skin he spared a glance towards her, a small smile crossing his lips. “It’s going to be alright.” 

 

With a scoff and a slap at his outstretched hand, Anne shifted away from him and turned to start collecting her things. His vision balanced once more and he was able to look towards her, his smile growing as her frame was swallowed in his sweater. 

 

“I can’t believe I said I’d marry you, Gilbert Blythe. I hope you’re happy! Now you  _ have  _ to marry me!” She hissed as she picked up her boots. 

 

“You said what?” He asked, his grin going dopey. 

 

“You don’t remember? Great, just  _ great _ . Will this morning ever improve?” Anne whined as she sat heavily down on the bed, her head falling into her hands and her boots dropping loudly to the floor. Gilbert exhaled the breath he’d been holding and steeled his body for the long crawl across the floor towards her feet. 

 

“I thought I dreamed it,” he whispered as his chin bent up towards her face. She peeked out from behind her hands, her head shaking as he heard her sigh. 

 

“That wasn’t  _ all _ you dreamed, Gil,” she exclaimed lowly, covering up her face once more. He could see the blush ripple down her neck and he wished he could follow it to where it disappeared…. But that thought wasn’t helping anyone. 

 

“So that all actually did happen?” He asked hesitantly, his gaze focused on her as she nodded quickly. “And do you hate me for it?” The shame that bubbled in him threatened to overtake him as she inhaled, her hands dropping to her lap. 

 

“If I did, do you think I’d have woken up here with my hands up your shirt?” Her words made him snort, his chin coming to rest excitedly on her knee as he watched her colour deepen. “I’ve no sense of propriety anymore. We’ve gone and thrown that baby out with the bathwater.” 

 

“I wish I could kiss you right now, you know,” he murmured as she sighed, her hand slowly inching into the hair at his temple. Her touch felt soothing, easing the way his body swerved with the hangover as he leaned into her palm. 

 

“I wouldn’t mind if - “ 

 

“Oh, you would! Believe me, I can barely be in my mouth right now,” he joked, eliciting a snort that made him glance up at her. In her distraction he shifted and took her hand between his, his lips pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers. She doesn’t pull away and he moves to her palm, then her wrist, before sliding the sweater and her sleeve up so that he can reach the crux of her elbow and the soft flesh there.

 

With a shaky exhale she hummed and shifted on the mattress, her free hand coming to trace along the edge of his jaw. 

 

“You’re bewitching me again, Mr Blythe,” she whispered, a secret shared between them alone. 

 

“You’ve enraptured me for years, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” he responded lowly, his voice thick as she twisted her hands in his collar and pulled him up to her. She didn’t hesitate to match her lips to his, a smile evident when she eventually pulled away. 

 

“You’re right. Not the best kiss we’ve ever had but I suppose there’s time to improve.” His heart skipped at her words, his body shifting and moving to his feet with a steadiness that belied the way his world tilted. 

 

“Yes - I supposed so,” he sighed into her ear as he pulled her up to his chest. He rocked them slowly side to side before eventually moving away, reluctant but determined to save whatever reputation they may still be able to salvage. “I’ve got a few pairs of extra clothes here - what do you say about the old boyhood switcheroo?” 

 

Her beaming smile and the mischievous twinkle in her eye made his chest constrict as he moved towards the closet. With a shirt and a pair of trousers thrown on the bed, Gilbert winked as he turned towards the door and covered his eyes. Behind him Anne shuffled out of her dress and into the garments, shoving what she could into a satchel and moving towards the open window. 

 

When he turned around the sight of her in his outfit, the shirt tucked in and her body more prominent without all the extra layers, he nearly passed out. She was a vision, her tangle of hair around her face loose as she fought to pull it back into an unruly braid. 

 

“Stop staring and help me,” she growled, motioning to where the clothes were still half out of the satchel. He bent to stuff them further in and then looked at her for instruction, following her lead when she motioned to the window. “If you toss it out there, I’ll go out the front door and get it before heading home.” 

 

“Got it. I’ll distract them in the kitchen while you make your great escape.” 

 

“Yes. Now - tell me Gil, how do I look as a boy?” She teased and gasped as he settled his hands on her hips, his eyes sparking. 

 

“Ravishing, if I do say so,” he murmured and ducked his forehead to press against hers. She held close to him for a moment, savouring the feel of him so close, before finally stepping back and brushing her hands along the trousers. 

 

“Alright - shall we do this?” With a nod and a laugh, Gilbert kissed her cheek and then stumbled his way to the door, clamouring down the stairs with Anne a few steps behind him. 

 

Joining the others in the dining room he groaned internally as he made note of every member of the house in attendance, their eyes all wide as behind him the front door opened and closed with a quiet click. 

 

“Well now Gilbert, do tell us who just escaped from this house after a night of debauchery?” Michael crowed, his eyes alight as Gilbert shrugged and blushed brightly. 

 

“That’s for me to know and you to dream about,” he countered and sat heavily in his chair, his heart soaring with the realization that Anne was now his, forever and always.


	4. Chapter 4

He made it to class just barely, tucking himself away in the back as he rested his head in his hands. His head was still spinning and every step made his stomach lurch, his colouring surely suffering from the hangover that made its way through his system. All around him students seemed to be living louder than normal, their conversations echoing in his head and making his thoughts swirl annoyingly. 

 

There was no hope to concentrate in this state, he realized with a groan, cleaning up his coursework after the professor dismissed them for the afternoon. He knew he needed to go home and sleep it off but every time he tried to focus thoughts of Anne kept slipping in. 

 

Did she mean what she’d said? Did she actually want to marry him or was it all just something he’d made up in his drunken state? 

 

Or worse, because she felt like she had to say yes after what he did to her while he dreamed.  _ That _ thought was most prominent as he wandered down the road towards his boarding house, his stomach curdling not because of the drink. 

 

Part of him was soaring, high on the prospect that she’d changed her mind for real and that eventually she would be his partner in life. But the darker part, the doubtful part, was sure that what he’d done last night had shamed her into agreeing and that she would back out as soon as she could. How could anyone absolve him of that guilt? How could anyone forgive him for that? 

 

The thoughts spun around in his head like a dog chasing his tail. Sleep. That’s what he needed. It would be clearer after. It had to be. 

 

“Gil?” A small voice broke into his warring mind causing him to look around himself, eyes wide as he scanned the crowd of faces. The hand that wrapped around his wrist as he looked out into the street made him jolt around, voice faltering. Behind him Anne was standing in the alley of two buildings, her eyes bright as she watched him. 

 

“Anne! What are you doing - “ He was silenced by her hand over his lips, her other hand leading him down the alley and out into the yards behind the building. 

 

Without words she pulled him towards the fenceline, setting aside a broken piece and disappearing beyond it. He followed easily, mouth agape as she lead him into a faeries’ hideaway, the branches overhead hanging low and blocking out the rush of the street. 

 

“I wanted to talk to you privately before you went back to your room,” she said after a moment, her hands twisted together as she looked anxiously around him. His thoughts immediately soured, the possibility of good news being almost non-existent as he looked down at her. 

 

“Whatever it is - I’m sorry,” he murmured when she didn’t fill the silence. Her cheeks coloured as her eyes flew up to his, bright and alive. “I know last night was unforgivable… That I’d trapped you into something that never should have - “ 

 

“Gil - “

 

“No, let me finish. You don’t need to tell me you don’t want to marry - “ Her head shook and she looked away, her hand coming up to cover her lips as he rambled on. 

 

“Stop - please,” she broke in and held up her hand, the teacher in her coming out in full force. He shut his mouth abruptly, treading lightly as she looked up at him. “I wanted to tell you that it happened because of me too. I didn’t move away when I realized what was - when I understood what was happening. I didn’t - Gil, I wanted it too.” 

 

The truth settles between them, charging along his skin as he gulps air to keep from passing out. Anne wanted  _ him _ . 

 

“I know I shouldn’t admit it, that people think it’s wrong, but I can’t - I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything that would make me think less of you. I’ve been thinking about it all day - about how we didn’t actually talk this morning and I just - I wanted to say that. Before you could get too caught up in your thoughts,” she finishes with a sigh, her hands near her face as the embarrassment trickles in. 

 

He doesn’t wait for the ringing to stop in his ears, crowding into her and dragging her hands away so that he can see the freckles lit up across her skin. She stares up at him, vulnerable and scared, as he shakes his head slightly. “Maybe we’re both too caught up in our heads today,” he whispers, just loud enough for her to hear him. 

 

His lips hover next to her temple, the smell of him filling her senses as she grips at his shirt. “Do you know how to make me forget?” 

 

He does. Leaning towards her he hastily wraps his arms around her back, pulling her flush to him as his mouth finds hers. The kiss is rushed, fierce, and when they come up for air it’s like they’re sharing the last of the oxygen on the planet. His lips form into a smile, one that presses to hers and slows into something sweet. 

 

They hover together for a drawn out moment, their hands seeking as their tongues meet and ghost across teeth. Anne is the first to make a noise, her small whimper as his fingers bite into her hip pulling a groan from his throat. It fills the air and leaves them breathless, their bodies on fire and both of them struggling and relenting over and over again. 

 

When eventually they pull apart, their lips red and their chests heaving, Gilbert releases a low chuckle and drags a hand through his hair. He would never have thought yesterday that he would ever be holding Anne Shirley in his arms, especially not after a kiss that had scorched his heart so thoroughly. 

 

“Do you want to go home and get some rest?” Anne wonders aloud, looking up at him with an uncertain look on his face. He shakes his head and collapses onto his rear, tugging her hand to bring her down to join him.

 

“I’d much rather stay here with you, if you would permit me. This seems like a rather private and comfortable place you’ve brought me to,” he adds, looking at her sheepishly. 

 

“Well, I did wake up practically on top of you this morning, so I figured maybe a bit of privacy would be appropriate for this conversation.” 

 

“Mmm, is that so? I can’t say I mind. I  _ know _ I didn’t mind having you sprawled across my chest… In fact, I wish I could wake up every morning like that.” Her eyebrows shot up at that, her hand slapping gently against his chest. “What? It was warm!” 

 

“My word, Gilbert Blythe!” Her voice mocked as she looked up at him.

 

“Hey - didn’t you already say you’d marry me? Isn’t this something that we’re going to have to get comfortable with anyways? I mean - I’m comfortable with it. In fact I can’t stop thinking about it if I’m being honest…” He let the thought trail off as her skin reddened, her eyes glancing down. 

 

“I think about it all the time too. The reason I didn’t pull away last night was because it felt so good to finally have you there, with me. Normally you’re not. I mean - when I uh, I think about you.  _ Like that _ .” Her cheeks burn as it squeaks out of her, the words bringing a furtive colour to his own neck as he looks over at her. “May I ask what you were dreaming of? Or would that be too forward?”

 

The grin that covers his face is sweeping, his body leaning towards hers and bringing them down onto the ground. With her back pressed into the grass and her hands on his shoulders, he meets her lips with his and languidly explores as his hands keep him aloft. 

 

“It was something like this,” he whispers eventually against her lips, his fingers drifting through the hair at her temple. She sighs and slides her hand down his side, tugging him slightly until his body more fully covers hers. 

 

“I remember a bit more contact, Mr Blythe…” She rasps, ignoring the old bitties in the back of her head barking about impropriety. She doesn’t care. They were engaged and it didn’t matter - they loved each other. 

 

With wide eyes and breathless words, Gilbert lets his body relax into her embrace. His hips settle between her legs, his hands take turns snaking over her curves and tracing across her features. When her hands pull him once more down for a kiss he falls into it and revels in the feel of her. All bets are off as her fingers find their way into his shirt, sliding across the skin at his lower back as he moans into her mouth. 

 

“ _ Anne _ ,” he groans, his chest an inch away from hers as his body vibrates against hers. She replies with a sigh, trailing her kisses across his jaw and to a sensitive part of his ear. It was like a sweet dream as his hands graze her ribcage, the side of her belly and then back up to her chest. 

 

“Was it just like you remember?” She breathes as her eyes meet his. He answers with a kiss that they get lost in, their bodies moving together in a slow rhythm that drives the heat between them onward. 

 

It doesn’t take long for the reality of the moment to set in and soon they’re fighting to reach the precipice, their heated pushing and pressing creating a friction that feels too good to be true. Gilbert is the first one to fall apart, his hips jerking and a soft yell escaping from his throat as he feels Anne quickly come apart below him. 

 

They collapse together after, their arms wrapped tightly around each other as they trade tiny kisses and soft touches. 

 

“It was better than my dream,” Anne says later, twisting her finger through his curls as she lay sprawled across him. 

 

“I agree. Though right now it’s not too comfortable in my clothing,” Gilbert chuckles, glancing over to see her roll her eyes. 

 

“Perhaps next time we can avoid that,” she grins with mirth in her eyes, a brazeness that he hasn’t seen before coming out of her. 

 

“I like the way you think, Miss Shirley,” he replies with a wink and then pulls her onto his chest more wholly, tangling their legs together as they watch the sunlight filter through the trees. 

 

It was a wonder how the last day had even been real, to be filled with so much change. He wouldn’t trade it for the world though, not if this was the result that would come from a period of such uncertainty. All he wanted was her and today he had her, all of her, and it was enough.


End file.
